The English Anthology ...
C. Clarke, 1793 - English poetry - 334 pages
"A selection of English poetry, in a chronological series, from the beginning of the sixteenth century (or, including an extract from Chaucer, from the latter part of the fourteenth) to the present time, upon a plan hitherto unattempted, at least in this country. ... No alteration (except in apparent mistakes) has been attempted either in the language or in the orthography, as as little as possible even in the punctuation, of the edition followed ... nor has any piece been inserted which had already appeared in "A Select Collection of English Songs," published in 1783."--Advertisement.
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Alexander Pope Arethuse beauteous beauty behold blest Born breast breath brest bright charms Colin Clout cry'd Dæmons dame death delight design'd doth dy'd dyed e'er EDMUND WALLER Emma Emma's ev'n ev'ry eyes fair fame authority fantastick fate fear feast flame flocks flow friends gentle grace grief ground groves happy hast hath hear heart heav'n Henry HOBBINOL honour kings light longd loue lov'd lute Lycidas maid MICHAEL DRAYTON mind morn mourn Muse never night numbers Nut-brown Maid nymph o'er pain Phœbus plac'd pleasure pow'r praise prey pride proud pursu'd RICHARD CORBET rose shade sield sierce sighs sight sill sing sire sirst sish soft song sorrow soul sound spring stream sunne swain sweet tears tell thee thine Thomas Warton thou thought thro Timotheus trembling turn'd Twas tysn verse vows weep Whilst winds woods wretched Wyth youth
Page 35 - Sometimes, with secure delight, The upland hamlets will invite, When the merry bells ring round, And the jocund rebecks sound To many a youth and many a maid, Dancing in the chequered shade; And young and old come forth to play On a sunshine holiday, Till the livelong daylight fail...
Page 43 - Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear, Compels me to disturb your season due : For Lycidas* is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : Who would not sing for Lycidas ? He knew Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme.
Page 33 - Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee Jest, and youthful Jollity, Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles, Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek ; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides.
Page 118 - Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure ; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure ; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain.
Page 46 - O fountain Arethuse, and thou honoured flood, Smooth-sliding Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds, That strain I heard was of a higher mood ! But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the Herald of the Sea That came in Neptune's plea.
Page 44 - For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. Together both, ere the high lawns appeared Under the opening eyelids of the morn, We drove a-field, and both together heard What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn...
Page 117 - Flushed with a purple grace He shows his honest face: Now give the hautboys breath; he comes, he comes! Bacchus , ever fair and young , Drinking joys did first ordain : Bacchus...
Page 46 - The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. It was that fatal and perfidious bark, Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
Page 49 - Weep no more, woeful shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor. So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed. And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...